Misfits
by Mad3798
Summary: I wanted somewhere to belong. The universe thought I'd fit best with a bunch of fictional, S-ranked criminals. So thanks universe, there's nothing better to waking up to the Zombie Duo in your bedroom.
1. Chapter 1: My Name is Sam Finch

**Author's Note: **

I'm afraid I am not a natural writer. That said, there may be spelling mistakes and/or grammatical mistakes.

Please enjoy _Misfits _and remember to comment!

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><p>"God, talking to you is like pulling teeth sometimes."<p>

"Well, ow."

My name is Sam Finch, the town's resident hermit. I _could _socialize, if I liked people. I'm actually quite charming most days. Sometimes. Not really.

Let's be honest: I'm socially deficient. I liked people. A lot. They just didn't like me.

For good reason, I suppose.

My foot _exists_ in my mouth. Everything that comes of it out is wrong. Too blunt, too cold, too monotone- no matter what I say, it pisses someone off. Many black eyes and hard stares later, I've learned to keep my mouth shut and my eyes low.

"Good," Jenna, my best friend, grins, "it looks like they did install emotional sensitivity into your microchip."

Emotional sensitivity microchip? Bah, I wish. I'm about as sensitive as that wooden post over there.

Anyway, if my memory wasn't chalked, perhaps I could tell you how Jenna and I met. It just so happens that I don't really know myself, and Jenna, thinking it's hilarious that I've forgotten, refuses to tell me.

All I know is that we've been best friends ever since.

"It helps me blend in better with the _humans._" I drawl, watching her blonde hair fan around her as she ascends the steps of the Philadelphia Psychiatric Hospital.

God, I hated this place. It might've been the blank white walls, the sickeningly sterile smell, or knowing that one day, I'd probably be cozied up in here myself. The people were pleasant enough though; if they were coherent, they often had the craziest stories to tell.

Jenna's mother lived here, too.

I'm not too keen on the details- I never asked, Jenna didn't tell- but apparently, Ms. Abraham has always been a 'little off her rocker'. Shadows dancing across her walls, snakes slithering on her bedroom floor- you name it. I liked her though; we were just two crazies trying to survive in a world not of their own.

She understood.

Entering through the rotating doors, we didn't even have to sit down before Jenna's natural radiance caught a familiar intern's eye. He immediately received us, leading us into the elevator and punching in Ms. Abraham's room number. He's been escorting us for the past two years- might even attend our school- and I still hadn't caught his name. I stole a glance at his nametag and made a mental note to remember it was John Flores.

I'd forget in an hour, though.

"-glad you came. She's been asking for you," 'John' had been saying when I tuned back in. He turned his emerald gaze to me and I visibly shrunk against the wall, "and you as well, Sam."

I don't even have a nametag and he remembered my name. Take notes. This is how you make someone feel like a horrible person.

Oh, he's still looking. Did he expect a reply?

"Uh, yeah." Did that even answer anything?

The elevator took that opportune moment to open its doors and we filtered into the hallway. From our frequent visits, we knew the way, but John took the lead as always. I never noticed how he always escorted us to Mrs. Abraham's room.

Jenna and I fell behind naturally. I was a slow walker and she kept pace, creating a large gap between us and our long-legged guide.

"What was _that _back there, huh?"

I glanced at Jenna, raising a brow at her. "It depends, what is '_that_'?"

If we were going to be getting anywhere with this, she'd have to be more specific. In all my social handicapped-ness, I had missed something important and couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what.

"How could you miss it? John totally singled you out in the elevator!" Her manicured fingers trailed suggestively up my caramel-colored arm, "You should give him a lesson in '_cultural diversity_'."

"You're delusional," I whispered, shaking my head, "He talked to you too."

Guys didn't like girls like me, especially with Jenna around. She was absolutely perfect; a stunning blue-eyed blonde with petite features and a smile to die for. Her grades were on point, manners in check, and aside from the occasional bad day, completely manageable.

She cooked, she cleaned- hell, if she started singing and attracting animals, I'd be convinced she was a Disney princess.

I was her shadow, but I didn't mind.

"Yeah, I had a lovely conversation with his back." She snorted, "Hey, look."

I followed her gaze to John, where he waited patiently by Ms. Abraham's door. His eyes followed my body, trailing to my face as I approached.

To say I was discomforted by his piercing stare would be the biggest understatement of the year. I was absolutely terrified; a boy had never been interested in me before, so quickened my pace, eager to disappear into Room 434.

Jenna beat me to the door, blocking the entrance with her body.

Looking sweetly at me and flitting her eyes toward John, she asked, "Sam, do you mind if I talk to my mom alone? It's _very_ serious."

Not even I could be oblivious as to what she was hinting at. The only thing that could make the message clearer is if she spelled it out to me. "I bet it is." I glared at her, mentally trying to push the thoughts of me maiming her into itty-bitty pieces onto her.

Her 1000-watt smile grows brighter, telling me that my dark thoughts had been received. Facing toward John, she bats her lashes at him, "Can you wait with her? The fourth floor can get a little hectic."

If my looks could kill, she'd be dead.

Well that, and I'd be a kickass super villain.

"I'd be honored." John replies, a grin stretched across his freckled face.

"Thanks, love!" The door closes all too quickly, the audible click of a lock verifying my fears. I was stuck out here… with _him. _

For most people, my situation doesn't soundlike a horror story, but it is. You see, John is _attractive_, and while I may not have known his name, I knew what he looked like.

One word: adorable.

If it wasn't his curly brown hair or freckles that caught you, it was his eyes. Bright green and swimming with boyish mischief, even I, with a memory as flimsy as paper, could recall them with my eyes closed.

That's why I was scared.

We waited in silence for the first few minutes, the door to Ms. Abraham's room not opening once. No doubt, Jenna on the other side with her ear pressed to it. She wouldn't be letting me in until I either had a date, or had totally embarrassed myself. What a great friend.

I was just about to open my mouth when John spoke up, "I, uh, like your glasses."

"Er, thanks," I replied awkwardly, twiddling my fingers together. It was a nervous habit- definitely something I'd picked up whenever I tried communicating with strangers. "Are you, um, trying to 'get in my pants'?"

The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

John lit up like a match, a pink blush spreading from ear-to ear across his face immediately. "W-What?!" He choked out disbelievingly.

Great, Sam. Blunt as ever. Smacking a hand to my face, I tried again, "Fuck. No, I, er, didn't mean that. Do you like me?"

This was going swimmingly.

There was a pregnant pause and I could feel the heat dancing under my face, probably resembling a tomato by now. Suddenly, John laughed loudly, throwing his head back and attracting a _lot_ of stares. At first, I thought he was laughing _at _me- I never was great at explaining myself, so maybe I had said something weird _again_.

"I've only been trying to get your attention for like, half a year!"

Wait... What? Six months!?

He continued talking as I stared, my jaw on the floor, gaping like a fish. "But you're always so quiet. When you gave me the cold shoulder in the elevator, I wasn't sure if I'd ever have a chance."

Cold shoulder? Why was I so unaware of these things!?

"Anyway, I'm so glad you feel the same way. Are you… are you busy tomorrow?"

Was I busy? Did I have work? I could hardly remember over the beating of my heart and the fact that I was already speaking.

"N-No, I'm not busy at all..." I barely recognized my voice as it trickled out, barely a whisper.

"Great," the intern cheered, "I'll pick you up tomorrow at one!"

And that's how the socially inept get dates.

I don't remember much of the evening after that.

I was still riled up over the whole date thing to fully register what happened during my time with Ms. Abraham. I barely knew the guy's name, and here I was, receiving awkward confessions in psychiatric hospitals.

From what I do remember, Ms. Abraham, though she had given me a present four months ago in March for my 16th birthday, insisted she had forgotten to give me one. I blamed it on her nuttiness and needless to say, ended up receiving a 'very late' and unneeded gift. She called them, 'Wishing Stones', and told me that they fulfilled the owner's _unconscious_ wishes.

It was total bull, of course, but I didn't have the heart to tell her that, considering how excited she was to give them to me.

Jenna, of course, couldn't shut up about my first date. Even after the 30 minute bus ride back to her house, she was still excitedly bubbling on and on about it. I just wanted to wake up and find out I'd been dreaming… or having a nightmare. It was really a toss up.

"Wow, he waited six months! That's so romantic!" Jenna was gushing, already looking through her closet for the perfect outfit for me to wear on _my _date tomorrow.

Romantic was not the word that came to mind when I reviewed the conversation, more like, extremely uncomfortable, awkward, and unpleasant. But I kept my mouth shut. Jenna wouldn't appreciate me looking a gift horse in the mouth.

"How's this?"

She held up an admittedly cute summer dress, perfect for the heat tomorrow. It was a lovely peach color, tight at the top and fanning out at the bottom. Modest too, stopping right before the knees.

"Its perfect."

Jenna was excellent at understanding what people wanted. She was so good, in fact, that I sometimes wondered if she was the reason my social skills lacked, like she absorbed them for herself or something. The idea was silly, of course, but she was always on point when it came to people. It seemed really helpful when she was seducing men- give her two days and they would be eating out of her palm.

I wish I could do that. "Can we stop talking about this date. I'm tired."

"Fine, fine! I'm going to get ready for bed." The blonde waved her hand dismissively, disappearing into the bathroom.

Honestly, I was debating faking sick. If I showed up or not, either way, this date was going to be a total flop. I wouldn't be telling her that though.

She wouldn't understand. Nobody ever does.

My emotional sensitivity microchip was missing, and while I _ached_ for a proper relationship with someone, I was too defective for it to ever work out past the preliminary stages. John, if we ever ended up dating exclusively, would need constant verbal and emotional validation that I cared for him. I wasn't emotionally ready for a relationship.

I just wish I could fit in.

I decided that if I were going to be throwing a pity party for myself, I would open my presents as well. You can't have a party without presents, and while I only had one, the gift that Ms. Abraham gave me earlier, it would be enough.

Lifting up the silver top off the box and tearing away at the colored paper, I was actually surprised to find earrings inside. The were long and dangly, a shiny red stone swung from the base of each one.

_Magical_, no, but beautiful, most definitely.

Wasting no time, I undid my current earrings- simple studs- and slipped these new ones in. They were perfect, accentuating my short, choppy haircut.

"Cute!" Jenna chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom, immediately coming over to toy with my new accessories. "Now hurry up and put your other earrings back in, your tired was contagious and now I've caught it."

I laid back on the bed, stretching out all my muscles before closing my eyes and curling in on my side, mumbling, "Not just yet."

The blonde spared me a strange look, opening her mouth like she wanted to say something, but clapped her hands together instead without a word. The lights snapped off, and in the darkness, I fingered my new earrings with the pad of my thumb.

They were very long, so it did feel kind of weird to wearing them to bed, but at the same time, I didn't want to take them off just yet. I felt good wearing them. I felt like change was going to happen soon, be it a result of my upcoming date or something else entirely. Change for the better.

"One night won't hurt."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>

Ah, yeah! First chapter over and done with! Sorry for the lack of Akatsuki, but they'll be in the next chapter, so no worries! Don't forget to favorite and comment if you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2: Religious Experiences

**Author's Note: **

**This chapter will be edited! **

Alright, I've finally finished with this dreaded chapter. Between my first job, laziness, and just general lack of inspiration regarding how this scene should be played out, it took forever! I apologize for that. Anyhow, this chapter is a bit boring but it's just a base for character interactions, plot and further developing my OCs, Sam specifically. You learn she's levelheaded, and that while her inability to properly display emotions can be a hinderance, it also works to her advantage.

Tell me if I've kept the Akatsuki in character!

Please **review**, **favorite** and **follow**! It's motivation for me!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>

"Wakey, wakey, bitch!"

Something hard collides with my back, pushing me off the bed and head-first onto an unforgiving floor. My nose connects painfully, suffering the most impact and soaking the fingers that raised to console it's throbbing with a warm, red liquid.

Blood.

What the hell just happened?

Holding my injured nose, I glance over at the traitorous bed; the side which Jenna had slept in unoccupied.

Where'd she go?

...And who kicked me out of bed?

Fingers weave into my short hair, pulling roughly against the roots and causing a shrill scream to rip its way from my throat. Someone- not Jenna, definitely not Jenna- dips down to my ear, seduction laced in his tone but far from his words. "Want to have a religious motherfucking experience with me?" He says, cackling giddily, "I won't lie, it'll be painful~!"

"Control yourself, Hidan," commands a stern voice and immediately, the fingers loosen, allowing me to slip onto the floor, "Leader wants our 'findings' alive and coherent."

Clutching my abused scalp, it throbs underneath my gentle touch. The schoolyard beatings I used to endure daily being tickle fights in comparison to the pain I'm feeling now.

I've never screamed before, never felt this _scared_ before.

My head gradually lifts, taking in the two grown and impossibly familiar men occupying the space between the door- the only exit- and myself.

Well fuck.

Either Jenna had some really deranged Hidan and Kakuzu cosplayers in her bedroom or there was some freaky shit going on that I wanted absolutely _nothing_ to do with.

"I just roughed her up a bit. The little whore isn't going to die from a nosebleed." Hidan grins, using his palm to slick back his gelled, white hair.

"Just know that I will not suffer for your shortcomings." Kakuzu growls, black tendrils releasing themselves from his skin menacingly. He turns to glare at me, "Do not struggle, child."

"What are you-" Without warning, his tentacle-like appendages whip out, wrapping around my ankle and hoisting me into the air. Everything flips, and suddenly, the ceiling is the floor as I hang upside down like a 5-year olds ragdoll.

Okay, definitely not cosplayers.

Fun.

Taking me along with them wordlessly, the murderous pair abandon Jenna's room in favor of the hallway. I don't bother fighting or squirming; they apparently needed me alive, something I would not compromise by attacking them uselessly.

Their long legs make the journey quick and we reach the end of the hallway before I can blink. They carry me down the steps, and floating behind them, I use my advantageous position to look through any open doors. I catch glimpses of two more black coats with red clouds in Jenna's father's room and sigh, hoping they don't permanently disturb anything.

Look at me, hanging upside down and mentally nagging sociopathic criminals…

We turn the corner into the living room and I'm set roughly on the ground, hitting my already bruised nose. Pain shoots through me and I whimper, someone's hands reaching out to comfort me immediately.

"Sam," Jenna breathes softly, rubbing circles into my back, "Y-You look absolutely horrible."

Wow, and I thought I was the one who had a 'way with words'.

I frown, "Thanks."

Jenna herself didn't seem to be in bad shape. Her blonde hair was tousled, not silky and wavy as per usual, while her clothes were ripped in several places; signs of a struggle.

Still, even after encountering two S-ranked criminals, she managed to look like a model from a magazine.

I search her freckled skin, looking for any bruises or cuts but finding none. Jenna had gone down fighting, that much was obvious, but she'd been easily overpowered by someone merciful and patient- most likely Itachi, or possibly Konan- causing her disheveled appearance but lack of injuries.

Had it been the Zombie duo, she'd have been good as dead.

Gritting my teeth and I attempt to ignore the morbid turn my thoughts had taken, instead sweeping my eyes across the room, observing the new additions. There, seated comfortably around Jenna's mahogany coffee table sat Pein, Konan, and Itachi, while Kisame, in all his blue and scary glory, stood purposefully by the front door like a bouncer, his arms crossed and a sharp-toothed grin gracing his face.

"Jenna has proven herself truthful; there was another, as she had said." Itachi murmurs, eying me thoughtfully.

Depending on the where they were pulled from the storyline, that left Deidara and his current partner, along with possibly Zetsu, as the Akatsuki members I'd briefly seen searching the other bedrooms.

Kakuzu had said they were looking for 'findings' and wanted them _alive_- people. They are looking for any others in the house, and unless the Espada decided to drop in from the Bleachverse, whoever it was upstairs would come down shortly, empty-handed.

Good, that means Jenna's validity will be proven even further.

I take note that Itachi is eyeing me- very, very scarily considering his red, sharingan eyes- and I briefly review my actions thus far, wondering if I've done anything suspicious.

Perhaps not saying anything like, '_Who the hell are you!?_' or '_Please don't kill me!'_ was brow-raising in itself.

...Also, maybe I should've reacted to Kisame, the 6'3 man-fish, more.

I must be their most unemotive kidnappee ever.

It was at that moment Sasori, followed by a grumpy Deidara and an overactive Tobi, marched down the steps and into the already overcrowded living.

"Nobody in the rest of the house, Leader-san!" Tobi chirps, the puppet nodding as if to confirm his words.

"Good." Pein stands up, smoothing the wrinkles from his black coat. His very presence was domineering, washing over Jenna and I the moment he stood. Compared to Kisame, he was short and lean, however the more powerful of the two was obvious. Pein definitely was a leader through and through. "I am Pein, but you will call me Leader."

I nod silently, my thoughts racing too fast for me to speak them.

Should I tell them everything? How they lose? How they _die? _And what about Tobito? He's the _real_ mastermind here- no, he'd kill me in an instant if he even believed I jeopardized his future plans.

I can't say anything.

Not to him, anyway.

Jenna raises her hand politely, unaffected by an inner debate like I was. Anime had never been something of interest for her and while I may have forced her into watching some, she had never gotten past the Zabuza Arc of Naruto. To her, these weren't otherworldly criminals.

They were just very, _very_ weird looking, dangerous people.

"If I may," Her hand shakes in fear, speaking volumes more than the smile plastered on her face does. "My name is Jennifer Abraham, and this is-"

"Is your short-haired friend mute?" Sasori interrupts icily, "-otherwise, let her introduce herself."

Hidan pats my head and I bite back a pained cry, cringing underneath his touch. "Nah, she's definitely not mute. This girl's got a pair of lungs on her."

Deidara sputters loudly, eying me incredulously, "Woah, you already had sex with her?" His blue eyes travel back and forth between the Jashinist and myself before quickly raising a mouthed-hand. "I call dibs on the blonde, yeah!"

I open my mouth to protest and Jenna reels back in horror, throwing her hands on top of herself as if to hide every inch of her body. "No way!"

"It looks like Blondie isn't into She-Males!"

"Shut up, Kisame! You're just mad because no one is willing to even go near your disgusting fishface!"

"Be silent," Pein commands, though the bickering continues. Konan sighs and Itachi, as if having experienced the same situation millions of times before, shakes his head defeatedly.

This wasn't going to end well.

"Why don't you go and-"

The coffee table hits the wall, shattering into millions of expensive mahogany pieces. Whatever words that were about to be thrown spilling uselessly from their mouths before falling silent and staring at the culprit: Pein, who now stands with his arm outstretched and his hand open.

"Quiet." He hisses, and sure enough, the room falls silent. His ringed eyes lock with mine and I stare back, mesmerized by their uniqueness. "Tell us your name, child."

I follow Jenna's example and robotically introduce myself. My words are short; the less I say, the better. "Samantha Clark."

Exchanging names was a good sign; in the years I've spent learning how to make connections with people, learning names was always step one. It created a personal atmosphere, and in this case, meant that Pein planned on utilizing us to our fullest.

This was… good.

Pein's eyes widened a fraction, as if surprised by my compliancy. Perhaps after such a beating, he thought I'd be more resistant to even the simplest of questions. "Have you any clue where we are?"

All their attention intensified dramatically, and I struggled underneath its weight to keep calm. It seemed that unlike Jenna, I wouldn't shake while being addressed by _one_ criminal, but more? It was too closely reminiscent to the high school presentations I feared so much.

Sasori, Itachi, Kisame- everyone. They were all looking expectantly to me for answers.

My fingers begin to toy nervously, "You're in America, but more specifically, Pennsylvania. This is Jenna's house."

"'Penn-sylv-annia,'" Deidara murmurs aloud, the foreign word rolling brokenly off his tongue. He turned to Pein, almond eyes squeezing shut in thought, and sighed, "No chakra, weird names, weird places… this really is a whole new world."

"A new world?" Jenna pipes in, looking at the Akatsuki with new curiosity. "You mean you're not from Earth?"

I took this as my chance, making the jump needed to make some progress. "If you're not from here, you'll need guides and somewhere to stay, right?"

Jenna jumped, shaking her head violently while the Akatsuki leader eyed me somewhat appraisingly, "Yes. That would be correct."

The Akatsuki were not idiots. Each was a genius in their own right, representing everything from an NBA star to a rocket scientist. That said, outright deception was out of the question. No, we had to be smarter in order to stand a chance amongst these geniuses.

Plus, I _really _didn't want to play 20-questions and real-life hangman with these psychopaths.

"Then let's make this easy," I reply smoothly, ignoring the rest to stare straight into Pein's ringed eyes. I was laying it on thick; the natural monotone of my voice portraying a confidence I didn't truly possess. The facade was only supported by the eerie stillness of my body, which aside from the twitching and spasming of my hands hands, had hardly budged. "If we house your organization for the time being- meaning that we supply you with food, shelter, and information regarding this world, will you, in exchange, not kill or harm us?"

I was imposing a bit, considering this wasn't my house, but exceptions for my lack of courtesy could be made under the circumstances. The offer was plausible: this wasn't something I lied through my teeth about.

You see, after Ms. Abraham was institutionalized, Jenna's father took to working away from home as often as he could. As a result, Jenna spent most of her days and nights alone in her nice-sized house, which could easily fit the Akatsuki if they slept in pairs and the Abrahams, or what was left of them, were more than financially stable. If they used Jenna's credit card, which was attached to her father's mini fortune, they would be able to afford the multitude of groceries and clothing required to keep the Akatsuki stable.

Oh god, this really _is _the perfect setup for a fanfic.

What happens next? Someone falls _in love_ with me?

Hahahahahahaha- no, that seriously would be awful.

...Wait. Didn't I have a date today?

"That would be," Pein says after a pause, glaring around the room as if sizing it up, "…ideal."

Blue fists pump into the air and Kisame cheers, "Hell yeah! This place is nice!" He waltzes straight to the kitchen, and the sound of him pilfering through the cabinets can be heard, "She had me sold at food, you know."

"Count me in!" Hidan cries, sprinting after his large companion, "I'm fucking starved."

"Sasori, as our espionage expert, choose your Guide and recover as much information on this world as possible. You will be responsible for relaying your findings during meetings." Leader says, before turning his attention to the solemn Uchiha, "Itachi, you will accompany Konan and myself to discuss possible theories regarding this….situation."

"Understood, Leader-sama."

Itachi, Konan, and Pein- practically all the sane ones, retreat upstairs without another word. If anyone knew how to take over a household, it was the Akatsuki, because neither Jenna or myself had offered to show them their rooms. They were just going to choose a room, situate themselves, and get comfortable.

"You, less-annoying one," I look up, meeting Sasori's lidded brown eyes, "You shall be my Guide."

"M-Me?!"

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>

Well that's it for chapter 2, though some editing is seriously needed! I hope you liked it regardless, though I promise that chapter 3 will be much more entertaining between Sam's (first) date and getting used to the Akatsuki!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3: Plump and Pink Lips

**Author's Note: **

All the support I've been receiving through your follows, favorites, and reviews have been inspiring! I'm so thankful to those who have chosen to push and support me!

Since, in my opinion, the last two chapters have been slightly boring, I decided to spice things up a bit in this chapter. Nothing too crazy, but I wanted a likable atmosphere for most of this chapter in comparison to the tense, hostile mood of the last chapter.

The actual plot will come in later, though right now I want to establish characters and interactions.

Anywho, don't forget to **review**, **follow**, and **favorite**! It means a lot to me if you do!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

"Do not think to test me, girl. I have no qualms about killing you at a moments notice."

Yes, that's exactly what Sasori said upon choosing me as his guide. Verbatim. It wasn't anything new; the idea that the slightest hint of betrayal could land me in my deathbed. It was hearing it loud and clear, from one of their mouths, that put this entire situation into perspective for me.

Any wrong move and I'm dead.

My eyes dart to Jenna, who had occupied herself by grabbing a broom and sweeping distractedly at the remains of her coffee table. Her lips moved quickly, reciting something underneath her breath at lightning speed.

For a short moment, the beautiful goddess before me was a spitting image of her mother and I knew, I couldn't let whatever this was ruin her.

"You have my word."

If we were going to survive this ordeal, I needed to pull upon every sliver of emotion I had within my bones.

Carefully maneuvering around he and Deidara, I speed walk into the large kitchen. Hidan, with crumbs sprinkled over his stuffed face, smiles wolfishly at me before devouring another cinnamon PopTart.

"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, you know!" Kisame smirks, his hand dipping into a bag of marshmallows and shoving them into his face. The gooey substance sticks to his sharp, carnivorous teeth.

I grab the dustpan; my only reason for venturing into the dangerously inhabited kitchen, and back away, retreating into the somewhat safe living room.

"You're just as I thought."

Dropping the dustpan by Jenna's feet, who by the way was ignoring me for pawning her house off to criminals, I glance at the redhead from the corner of my eye, niggling curiosity getting the best of my common sense, "...and how do you think of me?"

He returns my gaze, idly picking at his fingernails at the same time,"You're intelligent and practical. Much more so than your companion, at least. You've already realized your odds and have accepted them as unfavorable. It is... respectable, for a civilian."

"Um...thanks." I say quietly, stepping around him and starting up the steps. The light pitter patter of another's footsteps along the wooden staircase reach my ears and I sigh, turning around to look down at the red headed puppet.

"You're following me." I deadpan.

"You are my Guide and it is my mission," Sasori pauses, his head cocking inquisitively to the side, "Why? Have I upset you? I will not say I am apologetic, as I am not."

"Don't worry about hurting my feelings, it takes more than this to affect me emotionally."

"More than being physically assaulted upon waking up and discovering there is a whole organization of dangerous men in your home?" He drawls lazily, picking at his fingernails.

"Much more."

Sasori arches a brow, a childish light only caused by genuine curiosity hitting his large brown eyes, "Like?"

My fingers run gently through my hair exasperatedly, avoiding my injured scalp and being careful not to get caught in any tangles. "Well I don't know, I guess-"

Something blonde, short, and soft rams into my unsuspecting form, knocking me off balance and tripping me backwards. Sasori's fingers lace into my nightshirt, pulling me upright roughly before my head can connect painfully with the wall behind me.

He scowls, quickly removing his hands from my clothes and patting them clean as though I were the carrier of a deadly virus, "I would hope falling is not a habit of yours."

His glare focuses on Jenna, my attempted murderer, who can't seem to stand still, "And you, Jennifer, should be careful not to irritate me further."

The blonde rolls her eyes, wisely keeping her mouth shut and I sigh, relieved that her temper hadn't gotten the best of her.

Deidara pokes his head from behind her to grin teasingly at his partner. "Aw, be easy on the girl, Sasori-danna. I'm positive she didn't mean to harm your sweet, little Guide, un."

I jump slightly at his sudden appearance, craning my neck to get a better look at the insane, albeit handsome, terrorist. From what I could see of him, his body was lean and toned, sporting an athletic build that matched his deep voice and devilish looks.

He was so attractive, I could have whistled; how on Earth did anyone mistake him as a woman?

"Tread lightly, Deidara," Sasori grates, flipping the hair from his eyes, which had narrowed dangerously at the blond bomber.

Jenna swats him suddenly, breaking the tense glaring contest between the two Akatsuki members and drawing the attention back to herself. "How can you two get prissy at at time like this!"

Deidara looks at her suspiciously and Sasori cocks his head, like a signature, to the side inquisitively.

I quirk an eyebrow, "A time like what?"

"You have a date! Your first date!" Her arms wrap around me and I freeze, having forcibly removed the date from my mind under all the pressure of this morning, "Ah! My little Sam is growing up!"

"That's so co-yoot!" Deidara coos mockingly at me, slapping his cheeks together until his lips stuck out.

"Isn't it?" Jenna turns to him bright-eyed, holding onto me tighter and giggling, oblivious to my torment. This whole situation is uncomfortable!

"Are you joking?" I sputter, ripping my arms from her steely grip to fold them stubbornly across my chest. The two blondes, one grinning and the other wide-eyed, rotating their gazes to me. "I will not be leaving you alone here to go on some doomed date, Jenna."

"Like hell you aren't!" Jenna rips forward like a Shebeast, manicured fingers curling into the wide collar of my nightshirt and snarling angrily in my face, spit flying everywhere. "I wake up, am attacked by a hot stranger and his pet fish and have my coffee table smashed to bits by...by telepathy!"

Her eyes widen, blue pits of hell swallowing me whole, and she closes the small gap between us further, our noses nearly touching, "And now, because of you, I'm housing a bunch of murderous, reasonably attractive, criminals while my father is out of town?"

"This isn't about you anymore. It's about us. You will go on this date."

"But Jenna!"

Her finger drives into my chest, poking harder each time to enunciate her words, "You. Will. Give. Me. This!"

When you're like me, the only thing that races in times of crisis are thoughts. My emotions remain stagnant, only the slight fluctuations of primal reactions like fear and anger to verify I had feelings at all. It becomes both easy and impossibly hard to forget that other people, people like Jenna, could feel everything so intensely.

The fear I'd felt during my encounter with Hidan; it's miniscule in comparison to the way Jenna feels, and will continue to feel, as long as the Akatsuki remain in her home.

While I always feel so little.

Am I truly a human being?

Licking my dry lips, I allow a weak smile to grace my face and whisper my reply, "I... I will give you this."

Tears bead at the tips of her eyes and she smiles back warmly, her small frame enveloping my own in a complete U-turn of emotions, "Wonderful!"

"Jashin," Hidan breathes, slapping his knee loudly and stealing my attention from Jenna to where he now stood, behind an equally awestruck Deidara, "That, right there, is the type of entertainment I could get used to."

"To be your partner disgusts me..." Kakuzu spits coldly, appearing at the top of the stairs behind Itachi, Pein, and Konan.

"Hey," Jenna observes, her narrowed blue eyes raking over the old miser, "You weren't called upstairs by Leader... what were you doing up there?"

The rooms drops 20-degrees and Kakuzu growls, black tendrils sprouting from his body, making the blonde's color whiten considerably. "None of your buisness, little girl."

The blue-haired angel of the Akatsuki, Konan, gracefully intervenes, stepping forward from her position behind Pein to look directly at me with her beautiful orange eyes. My breath catches at her beauty, and I can hardly stand to look her straight in the eyes.

"I understand you had premeditated plans with a young man set for this afternoon," She says kindly, her velvety voice sounding like music to my ears. "Tell us your case... and we will consider."

It was at that moment that Kisame, marshmallows still coating his pointed teeth, rounds the corner. Strange eyes widening to take in the scene before him, he looks toward his partner Itachi, who naturally offers no visible explanation as to why seven Akatsuki members and two teenage girls were squeezed together on the staircase.

After a moment, he sighs, resigning himself back into the kitchen, bag of marshmallows in hand, and muttering under his breath. "You know what? I don't even want to know."

* * *

><p>I'm not sure how I ended up in this situation; Sasori nonchalantly curling my short, choppy mess into a cute bob that stopped right below my ears and Deidara begrudgingly painting my fingernails a deep red to match the beautiful earrings Ms. Abraham had given me the night before.<p>

All in preparation for my date, of course. Which, upon Jenna's insistence, was being treated like my wedding.

Jenna would've been so jealous, had she seen me. Sadly, however, after convincing Leader to let me escape for my date, I was forced to head home without her, a redheaded puppeteer and blond terrorist in tow.

...dressed in their Akatsuki cloaks.

You can imagine the looks my neighbors gave me.

One person even had the gall to wave kindly at us and Sasori glared them down, as if she had kicked his pet dog, until the poor old woman retreated back into the safety of her home.

Deidara suggested we bomb it, clay already forming in his hands while Sasori rolls his eyes, not totally objecting to the idea. I ended up having to dissuade the suicide bomber, up until we finally arrived at my house.

"You're too stiff, un," Deidara says, roughly pulling my hand onto his knee and brushing a top coat of clear nail polish over the red.

Surprising, he was very skilled.

My nails were looking absolutely stunning and while I didn't want to move an inch, aware that Deidara would have my head if I so much as scraped them before they had finished drying, I was developing some less than comfortable sores on my backside.

"It's been twenty minutes already," I retort, squirming in my seat and groaning in pain, "my butt hurts like hell."

He snickers into his hand, as if he'd come up with the best joke in the word, while his single, visible blue eye gazes up at me mischievously. "Not yet it doesn't."

"Can't you two be quiet?" Sasori says, gritting his teeth.

In contrast to his harsh words, he lightly handles my hair with a serene disposition and manipulating it with the familiarity of any local hairdresser. A comb rakes through the back, untangling any knots, while the curling iron is skillfully rolled and pressed around my bangs. A second later he unfurls it, producing the perfect wave right above my brow.

I glance up at him curiously, "How are you so...?"

"My life's work is dedicated to preserving beauty." He replies cryptically, obviously cautious to reveal his fighting style and craft to me, a stranger.

"Ah."

He didn't need to tell me, as I already knew.

Puppets. He styles his puppets hair.

The revelation was extremely creepy, and for the remaining five minutes it takes to finish my hair, I shiver under every touch, brush, or glance shared between the puppetmaster and I.

His hands fall away from my head, and just as I believe we're finished, Sasori dips down in front of me, pink lipstick in hand, making me freeze at the close proximity of our faces. He duly applies the light coral color to my lips, while I focus on Deidara's swishy ponytail, praying the heat in my face would ebb from the distraction.

Just so you know, Sasori had nice lips.

Just saying.

For what seems like hours, I don't breathe as he finishes applying the rest of makeup, finalizing the look with a dash of almond-colored eyeshadow on my lids. He looks at me appraisingly, head cocked to the side and a small, appreciative smile gracing his features.

The smile vanishes. "Get changed." He orders, pointing toward my bedroom.

With a small word of thanks, I barricade myself in my room and shrug on the peach dress I'd borrowed from Jenna. Tucking on a pair of black heels, I cautiously approaching the mirror. Manicured, red fingernails and curled, short hair reflecting a stranger back at me.

I blink at the eye shadow, lipstick, and blush that had been carefully placed on my face with precision.

I looked beautiful.

Suddenly, an arctic chill in the middle of summer bombards my body, carrying upon its winds a cold dose of reality. My spine tingles, and despite my appreciation earlier, I'm tempted to strip off the dress and makeup, if only to gain a small sliver of sanity back.

What was I thinking?! Nothing about this situation was right, or feasible, for that matter. They shouldn't be here, nonetheless, shouldn't be treating me like this. S-ranked criminals shouldn't be painting my nails or styling my hair. I shouldn't be thinking about how nice Deidara's body was or how Sasori's lips were plump and pink.

They were villains; kidnappers, having attacked both Jenna and I only hours before.

Everything was wrong.

From the other side of the locked door, Deidara's voice cuts like a knife through my racing thoughts, "Sam!" he shouts annoyedly, "Your little boy-toy is here!"

"I'm r-ready," I stutter, something akin to regret heavy in my voice. Slinging a black purse onto my shoulder, I sigh and give the mirror one more, mixed glance before click-clacking over to the door and turning the lock. Just as I emerge from the room, Sasori forces me back and closes the door and advancing, invading my personal space for the second time today.

"Don't say a word," He orders, raising his open palms to my nose. They grow a faint green and I can only gaze, wonderstruck, as the remnants of the pain I'd felt earlier fade underneath his touch.

Meeting my eyes with an impassioned stare, he removes his hands and answers the unvocalized question swimming in every inch of my features: _Why? "_To truly be called perfect, we must eliminate all imperfections."

Without another word, he spins on his heel and stalks from the room, leaving me to gape at his back before it disappears behind the door. Once my heart restarts, as strangely it had stopped, I follow him out, shaking my head profusely.

"Too close," I mutter under my breath, "too close…"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Thanks for reading Chapter 3 of _Misfits!_

In the reviews, post who you'd like **to see more of!**

Things to be cleared up:

-Sasori and Sam are still very much platonic. Both are not the type to open their hearts very easily, if I decide to even pair them together. Currently, she is one-sidedly _sexually _frustrated around pretty much ALL of the Akatsuki, (though more so Sasori) something she can't fathom, which is why she gets so irate toward the end.

-Be patient, loves! There is a reason why we haven't seen Zetsu, or Tobi, for that matter, and why Kakuzu was upstairs earlier.


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